Why you should care about Paul Salopek

If you spend a lot of time reading enviro news, you may not be familiar with the work of Paul Salopek, the foreign correspondent who sits in a Sudanese jail cell. The two-time Pulitzer Prize winner is charged with espionage and issuing “false news.”

Paul Salopek
Photo/National Geographic

But Salopek may well be on his way to a third Pulitzer and other accolades for this recent series in the Chicago Tribune in which he traces the misery, corruption and pollution the oil trade leaves in its wake. He followed a shipment of oil from Nigeria to a Chicago-area gas station. Then he worked (for free) at the gas station to get to know the folks who use this commodity. Quite impressive.

The series’ title: A Tank of Gas, a World of Trouble.

Here’s the summary:

To truly grasp the scope of the crisis looming before them, Americans must retrace their seemingly ordinary tankful of gasoline back to its shadowy sources. This is, in effect, a journey into the heart of America’s vast and troubled oil dependency. And what it exposes is a globe-spanning energy network that today is so fragile, so beholden to hostile powers and so clearly unsustainable, that our car-centered lifestyle seems more at risk than ever.

U.S. Rep. Christopher Shays, who recently met with Salopek, says the reporter admits — and regrets — sneaking into the Darfur region of Sudan without a visa. However, we should point out that this is a common technique among foreign correspondents covering touchy areas. When caught, the punishment is generally just deportation.

And while Dateline Earth hates to link to our crosstown competition twice in one week, the best portrait of Salopek I’ve read to date is Ken Armstrong’s piece in today’s Seattle Times. Armstrong, who counts Salopek as an acquaintance, said it better than I ever could:

Paul doesn’t take shortcuts. To tell a story of civil war, he took a five-week trip down the Congo River, mostly by canoe. To tell a story of the people in Mexico’s Sierra Madre, he traveled 1,300 miles by mule. He crosses mountain passes, deserts and seas, all to tell us stories. He doesn’t write for awards. He doesn’t promote himself. He doesn’t tag along with other journalists. He goes his own way.